


Punk Rock

by Cerulean_Batgirl



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Music, Musicians, batfamily
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-03
Updated: 2017-03-03
Packaged: 2018-04-24 12:54:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 9,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4920412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerulean_Batgirl/pseuds/Cerulean_Batgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Jason has no idea how it happened. Yet somehow, in some weird twist of fate, he ends up here. Singing. Onstage. At a bar."</p><p>Jason accidentally becomes the lead singer of a band. Obviously, he can't keep his secret for long. Being a local rockstar/vigilante is a tough gig.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The First Night

Jason has no idea how it happened. Yet somehow, in some weird twist of fate, he ends up here. Singing. Onstage. At a bar. One second, he had been pouring drinks, working the bar, and the next, he was pushed onstage when the lead singer of the main act quits. To be fair, he probably shouldn’t have admitted he was a decent singer to his desperate boss. The band is a fairly established group in Gotham, and the crowd isn’t pleased with the delay. The band onstage is skeptical when Jason climbs onto the stage, but they follow his lead when he asks to perform a few punk covers of popular songs. The crowd is borderline irritated, but waits for the performance. Several people pull their phones out, probably hoping to have a hilarious disaster to post onto social media later.

They’re all in shock when he performs more skillfully, more passionately - than the actual former lead singer. The audience goes wild for his voice. And to his own surprise, Jason is happier onstage than he’s been in years.

After the show, the band begs him to join. Jason wants to refuse. He's shocked when he doesn’t.


	2. Magic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim is the first to accidentally discover Jason’s new career.

Tim is the first to accidentally discover Jason’s new career. The usually more reserved former Robin enjoyed sneaking away on his nights off. Somewhat disguised in a punk-ish getup, Tim makes his way into the club. The lights go dim, and a light fog fills the stage. Tim feels his heart pounding as the musicians enter the stage.

The lead singer takes the center, his bright red hood pulled over shaggy hair, obscuring his eyes. His body language seems familiar to Tim, but he shrugs off the weird sensation. The singer places his hands around the mic, restlessly tapping the grip. The lead guitarist’s voice cuts into Tim’s thoughts. He introduces the band, and then proceeds to mention that the lead singer is new to the band. He introduces him as “Red,” likely a nod to his red-accented getup. Tim has seen this band before, but he’s curious about the change. The singer takes a deep, shaky breath. Tim can’t help but feel nervous for him. The previous singer was incredibly talented - a tough individual to top. The music slowly starts.

Tim is stunned when the voice that pours into the air is magic.

Tim loses himself in the music. It’s amazing; it’s better than anything that’s come out of Gotham in years. The guitarist nails his solos, the drummer maintains a steady tempo, and the bassist keeps his heart pounding. But most of all, the singer emits so much passion onstage. Anger, sadness, happiness, and fear all simultaneously fill the air. Tim is so moved; he’s shocked when his hands start shaking during the set. Several people around him cry. The anguish in Red’s voice is so powerful, Tim can’t help but be sucked into the lyrics. The final song of the night has a fast tempo, with the lights flickering and people dancing around Tim. Red’s lips curve into a cocky, toothy grin. He cuts off the note and walks to the side of the stage. He runs to the opposite side and jumps, completing a handspring followed by a cartwheel. The theatrics drive the crowd wild. Red picks up the microphone and starts singing again, his hood sliding off of his head. He smiles while singing, almost breaking into a laugh. Tim nearly drops dead.

An unmistakable white streak falls from his deep black hair, framing his bright green-blue eyes. “What the fuck?!” Tim shouts, a phrase left unheard in the blaring punk music. The song ends as Tim attempts to gather some sort of composure. 

“Thank you and goodnight Gotham!” Jason’s voice rings out into the club, leaving Tim with a dazed feeling. Tim quickly shakes it off and dashes to the doors, sneaking into the backstage area. 

He locates the band, packing up their gear and talking. “Yo, Red. Nice work out there tonight. Not bad for a third performance.”

Tim is shocked to see Jason grinning, happily interacting with the band members. “Thanks, I hope the stunts weren’t too excessive?” 

The drummer responds, “Are you serious, man? Did you see the crowd? They went nuts for that. It’s almost like that edgy Black Canary band, but without all the fuckin violence.” That last line made Jason audibly laugh.

“Can I help you?” A voice demands behind Tim. Shit. Tim turns around to face the less-than-happy lead guitarist. 

“Um - I - uh,” Tim stutters, feeling like a small child. Jason’s eyes widen, then narrow as he stares at Tim. Double shit. Tim blames his poor hearing on the loud concert. As the guitarist grabs his arm, Jason steps in.

“Hold up,” Jason sighs irritably. 

“You know this kid?” The guitarist asks.

Tim gulps as Jason’s smile turns into a grimace. “This is my idiot-”

“Brother.” Tim cuts him off. Jason angrily squeezes his arm, causing Tim to yelp in surprise.

“I was gonna say stalker, but fine, same difference.” Jason angrily lets go, leaving Tim with a slightly pained reddish forearm. Tim is thankful it stops at that. The guitarist shrugs it off and walks away, going over to finish packing the equipment.

“Um, Jay-” Tim starts asking.

Jason leans over, hissing into Tim’s face, “What the actual FUCK are you doing here? Is Dickweed here? Did you fucking call Bruce here? I’m going to fucking kill you, you piece of sh-” 

“I didn’t tell anyone!” Tim whispers defensively. “And I won’t. I promise.” The tension in Jason’s stance dissipates, his shoulders sloping. 

“What?” Jason sighs in disbelief. “Then why are you here, dressed like that? Do you have a case?”

Tim gestures to the stage. “I happen to like punk music. It’s nice to get out of the manor sometimes.”

“...They have no idea, huh.” Tim stiffens. “Whatever, babybird. I get it.” Jason pulls out a cigarette. He points to the door. Tim nods and follows him out in the empty alley. As Jason lights the cigarette, Tim can’t help but ask.

“How did you get this gig?” Smoke slowly flows out of Jason’s mouth into the brisk night air. Jason takes a deep breath.

“It was kind of an accident.” Tim crosses his arms, expecting more to the story. Jason rolls his eyes. “Last week. The lead singer ditched ‘em. Next thing I know, I’m tossed onto the stage. My singing was decent. Aaaand, that brings us to now.” Jason takes another drag. An awkward silence hangs over them.

Tim finally speaks. “You weren’t decent. You were...incredible.” Jason feels a blush spread across his face. Tim’s mouth pulls into a small smirk.

“Shut up,” Jason looks away and puffs on his cigarette. “And thanks. Now go home.” Tim chuckles and walks over to the door. He pauses.

“Hey, Jay.” Jason turns to look at Tim. There’s an odd look of admiration in Tim’s eyes. Jason feels kind of flattered.

“Yeah?” 

“Can I...come to more of your shows?” Tim sheepishly requests. Jason nearly swallows his cigarette. He nods in agreement before he even considers the implications. Tim grins and walks back through the door, leaving Jason alone in the alley with his thoughts.

Jason feels very warm, despite the chilly night air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	3. Acceptable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next person to find out his secret is the little demon.

The next person to find out his secret is the little demon. 

“Damian, you have gotta listen to this awesome CD!” Colin waves a disc case into Damian’s scrunched face. The cover is a photograph of the members in band, with a man in a red hood standing center.

“I don’t listen to that sort of noisy nonsense,” Damian scoffs, pushing the CD away. 

“Come ON, Damian.” Colin nudges him, “Don’t be laaaaame!” Damian swipes the CD, hoping it will appease his friend. Colin smiles, making Damian feel a little satisfied.

“Fine. But I doubt I’ll enjoy it.” Damian grumbles as Colin laughs at his stubbornness. 

\---

Damian spends the evening drawing in his room. He glances at the CD Colin gave him, placed on his desk. He sighs and grabs it, inserting the disc into his laptop. The noisy music begins, causing Damian to plug in his headphones and hope for the best. They’re fast, punk style songs. The musicians have some skill, Damian hates to admit. The singer, “Red”, is particularly talented. Damian continues sketching as the music plays. Damian isn’t amazed so far, this style of music is typically not his cup of tea. Some minutes pass until a slower song drifts into his ears. He’s completely floored. The voice carries such an incredible amount of intensity, Damian can’t help but drop his pencil. The sadness in the song carries him all the way back to THAT day.

Back to the moment he died.

Damian is suddenly very aware of the wetness on his face, the tears dripping onto his sketch. He scowls, rubbing the offending liquid from his eyes. Damian listens to the entire disc.

\---

The day after, Damian informs Colin that the CD was “acceptable”. Colin is ecstatic. 

“Will you go to their concert with me this week?” Colin asks. Damian shrugs. “Please? I have two free tickets.” Damian sighs defeatedly, agreeing. Colin grins, seeing through Damian’s act. “Woohoo!” 

Damian’s heart pounds, just a little bit. He listens to the disc several more times during the week.

\---

Colin and Damian arrive early and stand front row, waiting for the show. The concert is outside in Gotham Park. “Are you excited?!” Colin cheers. “I’m so ready!” Damian doesn’t reply as he stares up at the sky. The sky is becoming a dark blue, with a few stars beginning to twinkle. Colin accepts his silence as agreement and smiles. “I heard he sometimes does stunts during the show.”

“-tt-,” Damian condescendingly responds. 

“Tough to impress birds, huh,” Colin turns to stare at the crowd. “Woah! There are a lot of people here!” Damian turns around. Hundreds of people stood around them, waiting to see the band. Most of them are young adults, dressed in alternative fashion. He can spot a few teens amidst the crowd, taking advantage of the band’s change of venue. No bar, no need to be over twenty-one. He’s secretly pleased that they chose to come so early and snag a front spot. The lights dim, and both boys spin to face the stage. The band members are all standing onstage, ready to perform. The man in the red shirt, presumably “Red”, is wearing his hood, his dark hair covering much of this face. Red holds the microphone with confidence, twirling the cord. His arrogant smile seems familiar to Damian; he can’t shrug the strange feeling.

“Alright!!! Who is ready to rock out?!” Red and the band members shout in unison. The crowd screams in agreement. Colin jumps up, lightly punching Damian. Damian can’t help but feel excited as the music begins. The concert booms across the park. The high energy and masterful skill continues drawing in more and more people. Damian enjoys it, but continues waiting.

He wants to hear this man sing THAT song.

Throughout the show, Red sings fantastically, creating more energy in the crowd. He performs a few parkour style stunts in the middle of the songs, going right back to singing after he completes the maneuver. Damian feigns an unimpressed attitude, but gives him credit for doing stunts while maintaining his breath. Damian concludes that Red must do a lot of extreme physical training. Not as extreme as himself. Obviously.

“Alright,” Red takes a deep breath as the end of the song echoes out. “We’re almost done for the night!” Damian’s face scrunches into a dark scowl as Red turns in his direction. He sees Red’s mouth open in surprise, gaping for a moment. His mouth formed a word Damian couldn’t place. What was he trying to say? Damian can’t read his eyes, still obstructed by the combination of hood and hair. “What’s this?” Red seemed to have collected himself, turning his open mouth into a wide smirk, “I have some tiny fans in my front row!” Damian feels his eye twitch and his fist clench. Colin laughs. “A final song request, perhaps?” Red’s deep voice carries across the crowd. Damian balls his hands tighter. There was something about him that Damian just couldn’t pin down.

“The slow one, please!” Colin shouts, “It’s the only one he really likes! He’s been listening to it on repeat all week!” Damian glares at Colin, completely betrayed.

Red laughs loudly, “Really! That one, huh? Alright! Is that cool, guys?” The band members nod in agreement. “Okay, goodnight ladies and gentlemen! With this last song...see you next time!” The crowd cheers as Damian scoffs. This couldn’t possibly be the man who sang such a moving song. THIS kind of person did not force such a terrible sadness out of him. No way, no how. The instruments quietly fill the air. Red takes a deep breath as Damian holds his.

His voice is exactly like the CD. No, no, even better. Damian feels numb and alive at the same time, the music pulsing through his spine. Damian notices Red’s cocky facade falling, the deep creases appearing in his hands as he shakily holds the microphone. Damian almost swears that he caught a glimpse of his jaw clenching, as if he were in pain. Damian closes his eyes, absorbing the music.

Just like that, the song finishes. The magic falls until it’s just a crowded park. Damian opens his eyes, feeling a little bit sad. Red bows humbly, peacefully smiling as he exits the stage with his fellow band members. He gives one last final wave, directed to Damian and Colin. As the crowd pours out of the park, Damian taps his foot.

“Wasn’t that great!?” Colin shouts, compensating for the lack of hearing they are now experiencing. Damian nods in agreement but continues thinking. “What is it?” Colin asks.

“It’s just…” Damian grits his teeth, “He mouthed something when he looked at us. And I just can’t figure out what he said.”

“I thought he said ‘Steven’,” Colin chuckles, “but that’s not my name. Maybe he forgot it? Weird though, since he ga-”

“Steven?” Damian mumbles the name under his breath several times. “He must have said something with a similar mouth movement-” Damian stops in his tracks. “No.” he whispers. "It can't."

“Did you figure it out?” Colin asks.

“Demon!” Damian yells, grabbing Colin’s sleeve, “Come on!”

“Ouch, dude,” Colin responds.

“Not you.”

“Oh? OH! That’s what he said? Right. Got it. But what does that mean?” Colin is cut off when Damian rushes him onto the stage.

"I hope I'm mistaken," Damian grumbles. The two boys go silent, sneaking amidst the curtains to see the band. Damian stops and stares at Colin. “Back there...did you say he forgot your name? Why would he even know it?” Damian whispers, nervous to hear the answer. 

“Huh?” Colin responds, “Oh, right. He helps out at St. Aden’s sometimes. He’s so cool, that’s why I have his CD. He grew up on the streets too, so he really helps us out. He gave me the tickets.”

Damian narrows his eyes. “And his real name would be...?” Colin opens his mouth to answer.

“Excuse me?” The guitarist opens the curtains, giving away their not-so-secret position. “Are you two lost?” Damian frowns.

“We’re looking for Jay.” Colin announces. Damian nearly collapses.

“Did you just say Jay? As in-” Damian leaps back, crashing into another person.

A large, firm hand grips his shoulder. Damian apprehensively looks up. A tall, muscular man, wearing a red hooded shirt, towers over him. His toothy grin, paired with vibrant green-blue eyes are unmistakable. “Jay Peters,” the unforgettable Jason Todd interrupts. Damian curses his luck.

“Why don’t you kids run back to your parents?” The guitarist gestures. Damian grits his teeth.

"Why don't you jump off the stage?" Damian retorts.

Jason rolls his eyes, “The little demon’s a bit more work than that.”

“Jay, you don’t even know- oh my god you do.” The guitarist gapes. “Don’t tell me. You and the volatile dark haired one are related. Brothers?” Jason shrugs in confirmation. “Fucking hell, dude.” The guitarist walks away, throwing his arms upwards. “That better be the last one!”

Jason smiles painfully, turning to Damian. “Why the hell are you here?” He looks at Colin. “Sorry, kiddo.”

“It’s no big deal, Jay.” Colin shrugs sheepishly.

Damian groans. “Why do you know him again?”

“I’ve been to St. Aden’s,” Jason pushes back his hair, avoiding eye contact with Damian. The white streak keeps stubbornly falling into Jason’s eyes. Jason blows at it again in frustration.

“Jay comes by all the time! He sometimes helps with the repairs we can’t afford, and he’s so great with the smaller kids too! He reads, and sings, and dances-” Colin continues.

“Good lord.” Damian grimaces as he stares at Jason. Jason blushes and gestures for Colin to stop talking. Colin smiles, extremely amused by the situation.

“Whatever. I have hobbies.” Jason continues fussing with his white streak. Damian feels a vicious desire to light Jason’s hair on fire. “So...my slow song, huh.” Jason quirks his eyebrow.

Damian feels a hot flush in his face. “It’s acceptable.” He rapidly spins around and pulls Colin’s sleeve, angrily stomping away from Jason. “Insufferable idiot,” he adds, just in case Jason gets any ideas about the two of them becoming amicable.

“Hold up, demon.” Jason stops them. Damian glares. “Would you like an autographed CD?” Jason sneers.

It takes all of Damian's willpower to not commit murder that night.


	4. Date Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dick’s foot instinctively taps to the catchy rhythm. When the lead vocalist starts to sing, Barbara grabs his sleeve. “We should leave,” Barbara hurriedly speaks.

“Where are we going next?” Barbara laughs as Dick walks behind her, pushing her wheelchair. “Will you stop, I can do it myself. We’re on a hill, anyway.”

“...And miss out on the fun?” Dick grins.

Barbara opens her mouth to protest. “Don’t you dare-” Dick takes a running start and then hops onto the back metal structure of the chair, similar to a maneuver he pulls on carts at the grocery store. “You’re an asshole!” Barbara shouts, clutching at the armrests, but Dick can see a smile on her face as they speed down the semi-steep slope. Finally, he hops back down and kisses the top of Barbara’s head. 

“You’re the best, Babs.”

“I was coerced into that circus stunt.” She combs her hands through her bright orange hair, now messy from the burst of wind. “I had no escape.” Dick can smell her shampoo as she ruffles her hair.

“Yeah, right. I’m sure you have five different ways to throw me off and probably run my organs over,” Dick teases as Barbara laughs.

“You’re lucky I like you. But really, where are you taking me?” Barbara asks. Dick points to the bar across the street.

“Bertinelli told me there’s this awesome new band in Gotham.” Dick shrugs. “She went out on patrol one night and heard them I guess.”

“I didn’t realize you and Helena shared similar tastes in music,” Barbara bites her lip, worrying for the quality of the music. She loved Dick, but his music taste...that was another story. She worriedly turns around to look at him.

“Relax, Babs. It’s geared towards your music taste.” Barbara lets out a sigh of relief. “I can hear you.” Dick pouts for a moment until he goes in for a kiss.

Barbara’s lips gently brush his. “What is the band called?” She whispers. The two exchange a long kiss.

“It’s a surprise,” Dick barely breathes out, going in for a second kiss. Barbara lightly slaps him on the cheek, somewhat startling him.

“You’re very cute, Officer Grayson, but I would prefer to continue this at home.” She smirks. Dick feels a light blush spreading across his entire face. He nods rapidly, attempting to regain his composure. Barbara always has a way of making his knees go weak. It makes him intoxicatingly happy.

“Dang,” Dick jokingly laments as he leads her across the street. Barbara hums in amusement. The two of them enter the neon-lit bar, punk rock music blasting from within. The band seems to be already playing. A majority of the crowd is dancing by the stage. Dick orders two drinks for the both of them. A light, honey based beer for himself, and a heavier draft beer for Barbara. Dick isn’t bothered by the usual looks tossed his way about his choice in alcoholic drinks. It’s a free country; he’s allowed have a preference for stereotypical “girly” drinks. Plus, Babs thinks it’s adorable; he grins as she winks at him.

Dick sips on his beer as he watches the band perform. Dick’s foot instinctively taps to the catchy rhythm. When the lead vocalist starts to sing, Barbara grabs his sleeve. “We should leave,” Barbara hurriedly speaks.

“What? Why?” Dick asks loudly, the music steadily increasing in volume. “Do you dislike them?”

“No, it’s just, I’d rather not-” Barbara shouts, trying to communicate. Dick glances over at the stage. The lead vocalist starts doing a handstand on stage. The crowd yells even louder when he lifts up one arm during the maneuver. He then almost falls onto his back, catching himself on his legs and jumping back up. It’s a basic stretch for Dick, but he’s surprised when the red hooded man starts singing again without a pause in breath. Dick feels Barbara tugging on his sleeve again. “Dick, I’m not feeling so great so-” The singer’s hood is now resting on his shoulders, revealing a dark haired, handsome young man, with an exposed arrogant grin and a wavy white streak of hair.

"J-Jason...?!" Dick spins around to face Barbara. “Do you see-?” Barbara nervously sips her beer, looking away. “Oh my God, you knew.”

Barbara gestures to herself, an indication of ‘Do you know who I am? Duh.’ Dick huffs, slightly offended. He turns back around and decides to still make the most of the night. He’s somewhat mad at himself for never knowing that Jason was THIS good at singing. As the music continues into the night, he can’t help but wonder. Did Bruce know?

\-----

“I saw the van in the alley,” Barbara points as Dick runs, quickly wheeling her in front. Dick has pushed his issues with Barbara’s secrecy aside, the two of them working together to chase Jason down before he can leave. The couple plows into the lead guitarist, running over his foot with Barbara’s wheelchair. 

“Holy shit!” the man shouts, holding his foot. Barbara and Dick immediately apologize in unison. “Why are you even back here, the exit is that way!?!”

“We’re actually looking for the singer,” Dick tries to be as polite as possible, despite the injuries the two of them have inflicted on this poor man.

“Let me fucking guess,” the musician spats, “he’s your brother?” Dick drops his mouth open in surprise.

“Oh man, how did you know?!” Dick laughs. “Do you have superpowers?”

The guitarist’s eye twitches. “Y’know what? Jay, get your ass over here. Who is this?” Jason’s head pokes out from the doorway.

“Aw, fuck.” Jason rolls his eyes. “It’s my dipshit older brother.” Dick is taken aback by how casually Jason uses the word ‘brother’. He hasn’t heard that since, well. Before. The guitarist throws his arms upwards and grumbles as he walks away. Jason tries to reassure him, “That is the last one though, man. No, really, I promise. Swear to God.” Jason glares at the two of them.

Dick and Barbara both attempt very innocent smiles. Obviously, no one is fooled. “Erm...nice performance,” Dick nervously comments, “...little brother.”

“The fuck are you doing here?” Jason huffs, crossing his arms. Dick poorly covers his affectionate expression with his hands. “Stop looking at me like that!”

“You called me older brother.” Dick beams.

Jason rolls his eyes. “Insufferable idiot,” he grunts. 

“And with that quip...I’m assuming you’ve been around Damian recently,” Dick easily deduces; Jason opens his mouth to protest, but can’t come up with any arguments in time.

Jason simply scowls in response, essentially confirming Dick’s assumption. “And your girlfriend just had to spill the details of my nightlife. What the hell Babs!?” 

This time Dick scowls. “She didn’t tell me anything, she wanted to get me to leave when you guys were performing!” Jason raises an eyebrow in inquiry.

Barbara raises her arms in surrender. “Alright, alright. I’ll confess. I like watching security footage of concerts sometimes. I get bored some nights, y’know. Tim and I happen to like the same music....so he told me.”

“Little bastard,” Jason clenches his jaw. Barbara shakes her head in disagreement.

“Don’t blame him. He specifically told me because he knew I would quote ‘find out quickly, considering your music taste’. Tim asked me to keep it a secret for you. Ever wonder why Bruce hasn’t responded to crimes near you? Or heard you on the radio?”

Jason blows out a low whistle. “I don’t know how you do what you do, but if that’s the truth, then...thanks.”

“Hey, wait a minute!” Dick flails his hands, “Even Tim knew?! Why am I the only one who didn’t know?” Jason and Barbara chuckle in unison, to Dick’s dismay. Dick crosses his arms and taps his foot.

“Chin up, golden boy,” Jason rolls his eyes. “You’re just jealous that I’m a better musician than you.”

Jason freezes up as Dick pulls him into a warm hug. “Yeah...you really are great up there, Jay.” Dick burrows his face into Jason’s shoulder. With the expert grace of a former Batgirl, Barbara secretly snaps a photo on her phone. "I'm super proud of you." 

“Stoooop!” Jason awkwardly shifts, trying to pry off his slightly shorter brother. Dick laughs and hugs Jason even tighter. “You are honestly so gross.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! All comments are appreciated.


	5. Bad Joke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Where is your boss?” A figure stands on the rooftop. Cass observes from a distance. A red hooded man stands at the side of the building, holding a rope with a victim tied up by the legs, dangling upside-down off the ledge.
> 
> Part 1 of a Cass/Jay team-up!

Cassandra's been in this bar for what feels like hours.

Cass scans the dance floor, searching for her target. The music is noisy and the band onstage is filled with energy. The lead singer is doing stunts while singing, distracting her from her mission. She takes a deep breath, blocking the rock music and flashing lights from her focus. She spots a man in a grey hoodie across the room. He’s somewhat bulky and clumsy in appearance. Cass squints when she sees him covertly passing pills to a well-dressed, college age man. She finally found him.

“I have an eye on top of a target.”

Barbara replies, through Cass’ earpiece, “You mean...eyes on the target?” Cass momentarily reconsiders her phrase and decides to agree with Barbara’s version.

“...Yes.” The younger man makes his way to the bar. Cass bites her lip, knowing he will likely use it on an unsuspecting woman here. She clenches her fists, knowing that going after the dealer is the most efficient way to take them down. For good.

“Be careful, Black Bat,” Oracle warns in Cass’ ear, “They’ve been running this operation for a while now. If we get him, we’ll get the main location.” 

Cass nods to herself and takes a deep breath. “On it,” Cass whispers, shutting off the comm device. No sense in distracting Barbara from the other team members. The mission should be quick, just a simple tailing of the suspect. Cass only has a few basic weapons on her. Not that she needs them. The band finishes their final song, causing an influx of people to leave the venue. The dealer starts to leave as well, but in the last second, Cass turns around to look at the bar. She sees the previous well-dressed man, chatting with an attractive, blonde woman. As she flirtatiously giggles, the man secretly slips a pill into her drink. Cass takes one more glance at the exiting dealer, but can’t stop the rising heat in her chest. Pissed off, Cass dashes to the bar, grabbing the man’s wrist and twisting it back. She hears a satisfying crack. Not quite an injury, but enough to be wildly unpleasant. For him, at least.

“OWW OW WHAT THE FUCK?!” The man spats at her, “YOU FUCKING BITCH!” The blonde woman is cradling her drink, confused and tipsy. Cass slams the man’s hand onto the counter and swipes the drink from the woman.

“This.” Cass shoves the drink in his face. The man stares at her, his eyes suddenly fearful. “Drugs. You put it in.” The woman quickly leaps off the barstool, clutching her arms as she shivers in terror. 

“What?!” The bartender jumps in between to resolve the problem, calling the police. Cass gives the bartender the contaminated drink and casually hands the scumbag off to the enormous security guard. She dashes outside.

“Mmm.” Cass grumbles. The dealer is long gone by now. She hears a distant voice coming from the rooftop, nearly drowned out by the noise of the city. She silently climbs onto the roof and investigates.

“Where is your boss?” A figure stands on the rooftop. Cass observes from a distance. A red hooded man stands at the side of the building, holding a rope with a victim tied up by the legs, dangling upside-down off the ledge.

“L-let me go!!!” The dealer cries out. The figure drops the rope a few inches, giving the man a four second free fall before catching him again. Cass suddenly registers the red hooded man as the one from the stage. 

“You wanna die?” The red hooded man cackles. Cass takes a deep breath, nervously waiting for the proper moment to step in. He drops the rope for a second again, the dealer screeching. Cass nearly jumps out of the shadows to stop him, but is relieved when the rope is caught again.

“Alright, alright! FUCK!” The dealer pants and wheezes, clearly terrified. He spills all of the gritty details, including the location she needed for Barbara. “Please don’t kill me!” 

The red hooded man laughs darkly, sending a shiver up Cass’ spine. “Sure, buddy. Take out those pills you’ve got.” The dealer shakily digs a bag out of his pocket, still hanging upside down. “Good job, genius. What do these pills do?”

“Uh-uh, um,” the dealer stammers, “It’s a sedative, man. Bitches can’t remember jack shit afterwards. Hey, how about you let me go, and I give you some for free?” The dealer nervously laughs.

“Shut the fuck up, you piece of shit.” Cass senses a sudden rise in tension from the hooded man. “Take a few of the pills, jackass.” Cass’ eyes open wide. The dealer’s apparently do too, because the red hooded man repeats, “Did I fucking stutter?!” Cass launches out into the dim moonlight. 

“Stop.” She takes a defensive stance, unsure of the man’s skill. The red hooded man turns around and sighs.

Cass recognizes his relaxed posture and immediately drops her stance. “You?” Jason shrugs.

“Yep, it’s me. I’d love to catch up, really, I’m currently tied up...well, I’m not...but he is.” Jason grins, shifting the rope. “I can still drop you, dude. Better swallow before I do.” Cass dashes to the rope, but it’s too late. The dealer has already swallowed several pills. 

“No, no killing!” Cass shouts. 

“Relax,” Jason lowers the rope until the dealer is lying on the ground. “No one is dying. He just needed...a taste of his own medicine,” Jason laughs grimly.

“Bad joke.” Cass looks down at the dealer, concerned. The man wobbles away and slurs sentences to himself, already lost to the effects of the drug.

“I don’t care.” Jason grits his teeth. “He won’t remember anything about tonight and it’ll buy me some time. I’ve been tracking their stupid drug ring for months.”

“My case.” Cass corrects him.

“Excuse me?” Jason removes his hood, raising an eyebrow as his messy, dark hair blows in the wind.

“Mine.” Cass crosses her arms.

“Get out of here, little lady. I can handle this mysel-” Jason yelps as Cass pulls his ear downwards, literally dragging him to her eye level.

“Quiet, tall boy.” She scolds. “Together, then.”

“Augh, fine, fine, just let go!” Jason rubs his ear after she releases him. “Damn. I liked you better when you were quiet.”

Cass makes a distasteful, scrunched up face at Jason. “Bad. Joke.”

Jason sighs. “Fair enough, I hear ya.”


	6. Awkward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of the Cass/Jason teamup.

"You sing...pretty,” Cass compliments.

"Huh?" Jason gawks at her. "Uh, thanks?"

"You're welcome."

The two stand awkwardly. Well, Jason does. Cass simply stares at him, observing. They’re hiding on the rooftop, staking out the location together. Jason looks over the edge, hoping to see anything incriminating. The two of them had been sitting there for at least 30 minutes, working in dead silence. Until just a second ago. 

"What?!" Jason frowns.

"Nothing." Cass states. "I didn't know."

“Yeah, I’m sure they love to never talk about me at the manor and all that,” Jason comments, adjusting his helmet. Jason had begrudgingly agreed to split up with Cass to grab their gear and immediately meet up on of the rooftop of the agreed alley.

“Bruce gets...angry...no?” Cass pauses, trying to arrange her wording. “Bruce is sad, after you say mean words. Not crying sad. But...stormy. Doesn’t think. Just sits. By himself.” Cass nervously looks at Jason, hoping she phrased it correctly.

“What, you mean like, depressed?” Jason huffs incredulously.

“You are also...stormy sad a lot. Is that depressed?” Cass gently places her hand onto Jason’s shoulder. Jason closes his eyes and rolls his shoulder, sliding Cass’ hand off of him. 

“Depression is stormy sad, I guess. It feels like a thick, sad fog, and it won’t go away...Is this a damn therapy session?” Jason grimaces. 

Cass looks at him, puzzled. Jason secretly hopes that she’ll get frustrated with the complex dialogue and leave. “Explain.”

Jason looks at her, only to find wide, curious eyes. “Um...what?”

“Teach me more words.” Cass smiles excitedly. “You talk different from Dick and Tim. And Bruce doesn’t talk enough.” Jason chuckles a bit at that. “This is Bruce talking,” Cass puffs her chest out and scowls, trying to imitate Bruce. She mumbles out in low, deep growls, “Mhhhmm. Hmm. Urgh. Hnngh. Tch.” Jason can hardly hold back his laughter as he silently wheezes. Cass takes a small bow.

“If I could throw you a bouquet, I would.” Jason claps silently. Cass looks at him questioningly. “Lots of flowers, bunched together,” Jason explains as he tries to illustrate it with his hands.

“Oh! Like Barbara sometimes gets from Dick?” Cass lights up. Jason nods and grins, recalling how Dick was a romantic dork, even back when Jason was a kid. 

“Yeah, like that.” Jason looks out into the alley. No sign of anyone yet. Comfortable silence hangs over the two of them for a few minutes as they continue to observe the building.

“Why don’t you sing more?” Cass asks.

"What, am I supposed to sing while I fight crime or something?" Jason spats sarcastically, but the only reaction it gets from Cass is a wide smile.

"I would like it," Cass informs. Jason slightly ruffles her hair, in a mixed gesture of irritation and amusement. Cass allows it, squinting her eyes with slight displeasure.

"As if we need more freaks around here, ya know."

"I'm not sure what 'freaks' means yet either."

Jason sighs. "Never mind. You're just…" Jason rolls his eyes, “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

“I hope not,” Cass looks over the edge again, “Cause I like you.” Jason looks at her, stunned. Cass shrugs. “What? You talk to me...normal.”

“Normally.” Jason corrects.

“Right.” Cass grins. "And can you teach me how to sing pretty?"

Jason groans but ruffles her hair more aggressively, leaving Cassandra with the feeling that she may be receiving a music lesson very soon.

~~~

A few hours later, Nightwing hears reports of a fight and rushes to the location. He nearly trips over his own feet when he finds Black Bat and Red Hood together, high fiving each other as they tie up the leader of the drug ring, surrounded by unconscious thugs.


	7. Regret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The voice is more haunting, more emotionally powerful than he recalls it. But it’s undeniably the voice of Jason Todd.

“Alfred!” Bruce can’t find the screwdriver. In all of the countless nooks in the cave, he still can’t find a single screwdriver. “This is ridiculous.” Grumbling, he goes upstairs in search of the boys. “Tim! Damian!” He almost starts going through a list of unlikely individuals in the house, but pushes the idea aside. He trudges up the stairs, annoyed to search through their rooms for the needed tool. He enters Tim’s room first, and sees a utility belt thrown under the bed. Pulling it out, he checks for a screwdriver. Bruce grimaces when he finds no screwdriver, but realizes it was probably a doomed endeavor. Logically, Tim usually brings tools back to their designated spaces. Except for the belt, he frowns while staring at it. Bruce concludes that Tim was running late for university this morning. Probably overslept, as usual. Bruce grabs the belt and turns to leave the room.

A lone CD on the dresser catches his eye for a moment. Bruce sighs and exits the room, wandering into Damian’s room across the hall. Bruce lifts a few books and papers strewn across the desk. “Hmmm.” He mumbles. Bruce opens the drawer next to the bed in search of his youngest son’s belt. Damian likes to sleep with his weapons near him. “Isn’t this...?” Bruce picks up a CD from the drawer. It’s the same one as the CD in Tim’s room, only this one is signed. ‘Keep scowling, kiddo. Love, Red’. The writing has a large heart around it as well. Bruce’s mind goes blank for a second. Is this a trick? Magic? How can both Tim and Damian be listening to the same music? Bruce double checks, going back into Tim's room and picking up the CD. "The same?" Bruce takes the CD down to the cave to investigate, ignoring his screwdriver situation. He observes the CD itself, finding no evidence of it being tampered with. He decides to take a chance and listen to it.

Bruce plays the first track, slowly sipping his hot coffee. The tune isn’t his taste, but he continues to intently listen, trying to pick up on codes or spells. He hears the singer take a breath. A voice pours out of the speakers, flooding into the echoes of the cave. Bruce spits up his coffee onto his shirt. It’s a voice he’s heard singing, whistling, and laughing countless times. Coffee dribbles down his chin as he coughs for air. Even if the octave is a little lower than he was used to hearing. Bruce wipes his face with his shirt, an action he will pay for dearly with Alfred later. Bruce refuses to believe his ears. The next track begins to play. It's a slow, passionate, heartbreaking song that nearly brings Bruce to tears. The voice is more haunting, more emotionally powerful than he recalls it. But it’s undeniably the voice of Jason Todd.

The song makes him feel incredibly lonely for the rest of the day.

\-----

Bruce stakes out a bar the next weekend, hoping to see a performance with his own eyes. He spots Tim, sitting by a table on his phone. How long has he known? Is he the only one? Bruce is overly cautious to ensure his extra observant son doesn’t spot him. The lights go dim as the band enters the stage. Bruce doesn’t see the red hooded man with them. Every minute passes in agony for Bruce.

“Are you all ready?!” The guitarist screams into the microphone. The crowd surrounding Bruce roars with anticipation. Bruce feels his heart pounding. As the band begins to play, a figure runs onto the stage and performs two handsprings, in perfect form. He then runs over to the mic, his hood and hair covering much of his face. Bruce is irritated by the lack of visibility, but can see the young man is smiling. Red begins to sing. All of the tension in Bruce's muscles evaporate. Bruce can’t deny it; it’s obviously Jason’s voice. A flood of memories pours in against Bruce’s will.

_“Jason, I’m trying to work. Why don’t you go sing in your room?”_

_“Bruuuuce, don’t be so lame. The acoustics in the cave are way better! Lighten up! Singing is the best way to relieve stress.”_

_“I’m not stressed.”_

_“...I’m supposed to tell the jokes around here.”_

Bruce realizes his eyes are burning. A wave of regret slams into his chest, making him feel as though he were drowning. “I miss your singing.” Bruce wants to yell out into the crowd. Bruce is both nauseated and exhilarated by the end of the concert.

\-----

Bruce tries to sneak out of the area. Really, he does.

“-Tt-,” the sound is an echo, coming from the alley. Bruce curiously investigates. He finds Damian standing tiptoe on the dumpster, looking into the building through a small window. He’s mumbling some incoherent sentences. Bruce eventually realizes that he’s unconsciously speaking Arabic to himself, something Damian does while extremely focused. Bruce thinks it’s kind of cute, but he can’t ever actually tell Damian such a thing.

“Damian.” Bruce tries not to startle him, but the stern tone has the opposite effect. Damian whips around, trips on his own foot, and flails away from the dumpster. Bruce leaps, catching his usually more coordinated son into his arms.

“Father.” Damian tries to play it cool, but Bruce can see his eye twitch involuntarily. “I took the initiative when I heard there was suspicious activity here.” Bruce raises an eyebrow. Damian averts his eyes, tugging on the strings of his green hoodie.

“Right.” He awkwardly lets go of Damian, his son now looking up at him with crossed arms. Bruce pats Damian’s shoulder. “I’m sure Jason appreciates it, even if you’re not in there.” Damian opens his mouth in surprise.

“It’s not uh - he’s not - I’m-!” The stammering is cut off when they both hear a door open, followed by Tim’s laugh. Bruce instinctively grabs Damian and ducks by the dumpster. He hears Damian emit a low and dissatisfied grunt.

“Shut up! I landed that flip perfectly and you fucking know it,” Jason says as he shakes off the hood on his head. Tim scoffs. “You wanna smoke?” Bruce disapprovingly frowns as he leans over, observing Tim reach for the cigarette. Just as Tim’s about to grab it, Jason swipes it away and laughs. Tim pouts. “Are you outta your mind? This shit can kill you, Timmy.” Bruce’s mouth twitches, trying to hold back an amused smile. He fails tremendously.

“You are SO uncool,” Tim huffs, trying to contain a laugh. “I’m already 19. I can legally buy cigarettes, Jay.” It’s the friendliest Bruce has ever seen the two of them. Tim gestures again for Jason to hand him a cigarette.

“Not on your life, kiddo.” Jason grins, lighting up his own while ignoring Tim’s request. “Hey, where’s bat brat? I can usually spot him creeping around before or after shows. He’s not as stealthy as he thinks.” Bruce glances at Damian and sees a deep scowl form on his youngest child’s face. “Wow, he’s really not going to leap out for that? He’s improving. Come on, demon, I know you’re hiding behind that dumpster.”

“Todd, you are such a waste of space,” Damian grumbles as he exits the shared hiding place, leaving Bruce undetected.

“Nice to see you too,” Jason smiles as he blows smoke through his nose. “Who’s your friend?” Bruce flinches. So much for undetected. Bruce slowly stands up, feeling embarrassed.

Jason drops his cigarette.


	8. Discovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason is finally confronting the Bat behind the dumpster.

“W-what the hell?” Jason stutters as he looks around, unsure of where to run. He glares at Tim.

“Ouch.” Tim looks offended. “I didn’t bring him here!”

Jason stares Tim down until Bruce finally breaks the tension. “...I heard the song.” Bruce confesses. 

“That should have been taken care of,” Jason growls as he thinks of Barbara’s handiwork.

“I listened to the CD,” Bruce helpfully adds. “I thought it was unusual that the same disc was in both Damian’s and Tim’s room.” Tim opens his mouth, ready to ask why Bruce was in their rooms. Bruce preemptively answers, “I couldn’t find my screwdriver.” Tim’s shoulders droop. He knows the screwdriver is in his bookbag.

Jason groans as he looks over Damian and Tim. “You two just love creating problems, don’t you.” Damian shrugs, hardly concerned. Tim flushes, embarrassed by the mistake.

“Like I care about your infinite problems, Todd,” Damian apathetically comments.

“While that is true, YOU are the cause of like 52% of my problems,” Jason grits his teeth in frustration.

Tim awkwardly takes a step away from the two. He looks at Bruce and shrugs as a greeting. Bruce starts squinting his eyes, asking what the problem with him knowing Jason’s side music career is. Tim makes a bewildered face and looks at Jason, indicating that Jason hasn’t really been all that angry about any of them knowing, except for apparently, Bruce. Bruce slowly nods and looks away, ending their silent conversation.

“If they’re infinite, then mathematically that doesn’t make any sense you oaf-” Jason picks up Damian by his underarms, handing him to Bruce. “Unhand me immediately, Todd!” Damian jerks his arms back and forth, violently clawing at Jason.

“Jason.” Bruce gently removes his angry son, setting him on the ground next to him. He holds Damian by the back of his hoodie after that, tightening his grip when Damian flinches in an effort to hurl himself at Jason. Damian viciously bares his teeth. Jason smirks. Bruce sighs.

“Why are you here?!” Jason demands angrily. “Even if you know it’s me, why even bother?!” Damian jerks again, trying to launch another attack. Bruce gestures to Tim, mentally begging him to take Damian home. 

With extreme effort, Tim drags Damian away, his youngest son screaming “RELEASE ME, DRAKE! YOU ARE SO DEAD LATER, TODD!” and other threats until being shoved into the car and driven away.

“Charming, ain’t he?” Jason sarcastically comments. “I wonder what side he gets that from.”

“He enjoys your music, Jason.” Bruce remarks. “You could at least be civil.” Bruce pauses. “Clearly you two have been getting along somehow, if he was standing on a dumpster for you.”

Jason kicks a pebble. “I guess. He’s still fun to fuck with though.”

“That’s not helping.” The two stand in awkward silence for what feels like hours. “You were something out there, Jason.” 

“Sure. Whatever.” Jason brushes it off.

"Jason..." Bruce awkwardly shifts. "You're good. I mean, you're really, really good out there."

"Hm," Jason murmurs, staring at the ground. Bruce takes a step forward, and is secretly pleased when Jason does not move. "You don't have to force yourself to say nice things to me."

"With a crowd like this, on a regular basis," Bruce continues, "well, it's special. Even I can see that." Jason slowly looks at Bruce. "And I'm as a blind as a bat."

Jason lets out a low snort and cracks a crooked grin. "You're really irritating, you know that?"

Bruce gently reaches hand onto Jason's shoulder, squeezing it tightly. "So I've heard." Jason fiddles with the box of cigarettes in his pockets, unsure of what to say. "You should toss those," Bruce adds, "it'll ruin your voice."

Jason sighs and pulls out the box. He stares at the contents, Bruce silently watching. "I guess." Jason tosses the box into the nearby dumpster. "I don't need them anymore, anyway."

Bruce smiles.

"See you on the rooftops, Jason." Bruce walks away.

"Yeah, yeah," Jason shrugs.

Bruce turns back around. “I didn’t come here for no reason, Jason. You were exceptional. I wanted to see you. I’m...proud, Jason.”

Jason pulls his hoodie back onto his head, hiding his embarrassment. “Oh, shut up. No one cares.”

Bruce makes sure to repeat his comment, the second time much louder.

~~Literally 2 hours later~~

Tim bats his gloved hand, promptly knocking the cigarette out of Jason's mouth. Jason looks at the ground in dismay, his crushed cigarette disintegrating in the breeze.

"What the fuck?"

"You told B you were quitting," Tim states, his voice perfectly monotone. His cape rustles in the wind. Jason wants to tug the end and toss Tim off the building.

"Psh. Like I was going to waste that perfectly good pack. That shit ain’t cheap, birdie. Not all of us are embezzling daddy’s funds.” Tim gives Jason an exasperated look. “Sheesh, fine...I'll quit tomorrow."

"Sure, Jay." Tim scoffs.

"Whatever." Jason takes a deep huff and blows all of the smoke into Tim’s face. Tim squints and coughs with displeasure. 

"...You’re such a fucking child." Tim pouts. “Also, I’m telling on you. Alfred is so gonna ground you.”

“Fuck you.” Jason laughs as Tim grins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Concept for Jason's outfit: 
> 
> http://elascribbles.tumblr.com/post/138287941071/inspired-from-my-own-fic-link-featuring-jason


	9. Lyrics

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even the Batmobile has a radio.

Red Hood vaults over the rail, leaping into the Batmobile below. The tires screech as the roof closes. "Whew. Appreciate the save, B." Red Hood removes his helmet, revealing a worn out Jason Todd. He slicks his sweaty hair back, his white streak stubbornly falling back into his masked eyes. Jason squints, staring at the offending morning sun, just barely passing through the windshield. Hints of the very early morning sun bounce off the red helmet, covered in scratches and grime. "G'morning."

Bruce grunts in response, pulling down his cowl. Jason exhales slowly, ignoring the lukewarm greeting. "Sup, Jay," Dick’s voice interrupts the tense interaction. Jason turns in his seat to see Tim, sitting on the left side of the backseat. Dick is on the right side, and Damian is...squashed in the middle. 'The kid looks positively rabid,' Jason notes to himself with amusement. The back was always a bit small for anything more than two child-sized vigilantes.

“Yo,” Tim tiredly waves. Jason smirks. Tim wearily presents his middle finger and mumbles something along the lines of "too early for this shit."

"What are you looking at, Todd?!" Damian snarls, "Imbecile." Jason puts up his hands in a mock surrender, unable to contain his smug grin.

"Like birds in a fucking nest," Jason’s responds as his breath hitches, on the brink of laughing. Bruce's frowning mouth slightly twitches, Jason notices with a sense of victory. Damian lets out an audible growl as Dick holds him back by his hood.

"Language," Bruce says quietly, to the point where Jason wonders if he’s trying to suppress his own laughter. Jason doesn't call him out on it and chooses to relax in the passenger's seat. The ride is oddly pleasant. Jason stares at the incoming rain clouds, lost in his thoughts. 

Until he hears his own voice. Jason jumps in his seat, startled. Bruce looks at him with a bewildered expression. Jason glances at the radio. "Oh. I haven't been listening to the radio, so...I didn't realize." His song echoes on the speakers.

Bruce blinks. "I can't commute to work without hearing this song. It's everywhere, Jason. It’s a huge hit in Gotham."

"R-really..." Jason mutters, feeling his face burn. 

"B totally put it on the Watchtower playlist, the entire league has heard it!” Dick leans forward excitably, shoving Damian into Tim. Tim grimaces and Damian hisses. “We know all the lyrics! Bruce totally does too!”

"Uh-huh." Jason glances at Bruce. Bruce awkwardly looks away, grunting a very weak denial.

"I'll prove it!" Dick takes a deep breath, preparing to sing as he pushes the two younger brothers yet again. Tim and Damian both make the same disgusted face, disagreeing to the event unfolding before them.

"Don't you dare." Jason warns. Bruce's eyebrows crease, indicating he’s not happily awaiting the experience either. "We all know you can't sing for shit. Dick. Dick. Dick no. DICK NO STOP. DICK-"

"AND IF I SURVIIIIIIVE," Dick belts, hitting notes that are far too…whatever that is. Flat? Sharp? Jason can't tell; Dick has invented his own new technique to fuck up a perfectly good song. "WILL YOU STILL LET ME STAY WITH YOUUUUUU?" Everyone in the car violently winces.

"Cliche lyrics, Todd. I expected better from you." Damian comments, holding his ears. "Even Drake could write better than this."

"I can't believe I agree with the tiny terror." Tim remarks. "Of course the only cliche song on your track is the popular one."

“What?! I love the lyrics!” Dick cheers. "Chorus!" Everyone protests. "IF I DIEEEEEE IN THE FLAMES, I HOPE YOU'LL TAKE ME HOOOOOOME!"

"I hate you all." Jason crosses his arms and scowls, sinking into the seat. Jason steals a glance at Bruce, suddenly self-conscious of his lyrics. 

Bruce has a hint of a sad smile on his face. Bruce noiselessly mouths something, his eyes never leaving the road. Jason's heart nearly stops.

"This song is my favorite."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for any comments, kudos, bookmarks, etc.! I'm so happy that you guys are enjoying this story as much as I am.


	10. Connections

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is exactly what Jason did NOT want. He's so over this idea.
> 
> This gig is bullshit.

"Yo, Red!" The lead guitarist dashes over to Jason. "We just got booked for a killer private show!"

"A private show...?" Jason looks at Steve, bewildered. "Wait, where is this show? Who booked us?"

"You're not going to believe this but it's-"

"It's Wayne Enterprises, isn't it." Jason interrupts.

"You're seriously so rude." Steve frowns. "And how did you know that?" Steve narrows his eyes at him. Jason groans.

"Never mind that, just...just please don't take the job."

"Look at how much they're paying." Steve waves a document in Jason's face. Jason pushes it away, as if the paper were toxic.

"I don't care."

"I don't care??? I DON'T CARE?" Steve mocks Jason's attitude. "Listen dude, I've got a kid to support and the rest of the band has their own financial needs. We're doing this."

"What? No way, Steve. I can't deal with the Wayne family."

"Do I look like I give a shit?!" Steve points to his own face. "Because I fucking don't."

"Fuck, fine. Jesus." Jason raises his hands in surrender. "But only for you guys."

"What are you, a fucking hippie or something? Can't play at large corporations as protest or something?" Steve rolls his eyes. "Or have you punched a Wayne out before or some shit?"

"Oh Steve, you innocent fool." Jason sighs. "You'll see. You'll all see."

Steve promptly flips Jason off. The rest of the band ignores Jason's dramatics.

Jason internally panics for the rest of the month.

He knows the band really needs the money, for several reasons.

Jason's a little disappointed that he'll have to disappear. Again.

\-------------

Jason is unhappy. He's planned his relocation. His new name. His new apartment. He's pissed. How will he move all of his shit? His seven cats won't be pleased to move again, that's for sure.

Jason glances across the enormous hall, covered in colorful decorations. Signs with 'Wayne Charity Annual Celebration' hang in several places.

Jason feels nauseous. "Why are we doing this again?"

"For the money," The entire band chimes in. Jason pouts.

"Y'all are making me suffer," he angrily spits out.

"Now you know how I feel," Steve hisses, clenching his guitar. "I'll be able to afford some therapy from your stalker family, Red."

Jason laughs. Jason laughs a really, really sinister laugh.

Steve has a bad feeling.

Before he can ask Jason anything, muffled tapping noises come from the speakers. Someone is at the microphone.

"Hello and welcome everyone! Thank you for joining us. All proceeds from today's event will be donated towards various Gotham charities. I hope you will all enjoy yourselves. In addition, we have a wonderful up-and-coming band playing the music for us shortly." Steve squints his eyes towards the backside of the individual, unsure of why they seem so familiar. "Bruce will be arriving shortly," the young man jokes, "I hear he may have fallen asleep in his office from all the paperwork he had today!" The audience laughs. "Thank you again for your support!" The young man concludes his speech. He turns around, waving to the band members in greeting. All of them immediately make the connection.

"...Holy fuck." Steve whispers, his eyes wide. 

"Oh boy, here we go." Jason grimaces. "My life is over."

"He's Tim Wayne." Steve barely manages to choke out. All of the band members huddle around Jason, each with their own stunned expression.

"It's Tim Drake-Wayne, actually," Tim cuts into the group. The band members jump away from Tim in shock.

"Literally no one fucking cares," Jason snarls.

"Rude," Tim huffs in response.

"Wait! Wait wait wait wait wait." Steve waves his arms around. "You're Red's brother? But you're a Wayne." Steve gapes, looking at Jason. "You're really his brother?" 

"Nope." Jason states.

"I am by adoption~!" Tim grins. "So yeah." Jason promptly hits Tim upside the head. "Ow!"

"Oh God, that means you're part of Wayne's..."

"Collection of orphans?" Jason rolls his eyes. "Yeah. Formerly. Kind of. Maybe. I don't know, it's complicated." 

"You're the one kid no one ever sees." Steve frowns. "This is kind of an awkward question but...aren't you supposed to be dead?"

"Faked my death but thanks for noticing." Jason sighs. "Please don't tell anyone."

"So Red's a fake name then, huh. Figures." Steve crosses his arms. "So, spill your real name."

"Jason Todd." Jason tenses up, looking away from the group. "I was kind of hoping it would take longer for you guys to find out."

Steve smiles. "Relax. Your secret is safe with us." 

The entire band nods enthusiastically. They shower Jason with support.

"Is this why you've been so against this event?"

"Man, no wonder you've always been so secretive."

"Aw, Red. We love you, man. We won't say a word."

"I'm just happy that your secret is this and not like, you're secretly a super hero or some shit. Or a villain! Oh man!"

Tim smugly raises an eyebrow at Jason. Jason mentally schedules another painful smack in the head for Tim later.

They all look to Jason with glittering eyes. They begin to fire off an array of questions.

"What's Bruce REALLY like, day to day?"

"Why the hell would you leave that beautiful lifestyle?"

"Ok but like...is your oldest brother single, or was that girl in the wheelchair from last time his girlfriend? Cause I gotta know."

"Is the Wayne family basically like the Kardashians?"

Jason blinks at the last question, slightly offended. "Yeah, right," Jason snorts, "the Wayne family is boring as fuck."

"Hey!" Tim protests.

"You just admitted that you faked your death, like, two minutes ago. So what you're saying is...there's even MORE drama than the Kardashians. Tell us more."

Jason curses his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dang, it's been a while since I updated this...my bad. On a positive note, I graduated from college! On a less positive note, I'm unemployed. Despite graduating with a 'useful degree'. It's fine////
> 
> But I had more time to write this! I hope you all like it! ( And maybe one day, you'll forgive me for not touching this for so long. <3 )

**Author's Note:**

> ...I'm really passionate about two Jason Todd headcanons: he's super neat and he's a fantastic singer. Suddenly I'm writing two fics about him. Eh.
> 
> Thanks for reading, and more is on the way.


End file.
